


A Life On Pause

by KayCeeCruz



Series: It's Only Time [8]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-14
Updated: 2011-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-20 10:12:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayCeeCruz/pseuds/KayCeeCruz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daphne needs her best friend…or does he need her more?</p><p><i>Daphne Chanders fell in love. All the time. Sometimes she would see the perfect silk top and couldn’t rest until she had it. Or shoes. They could get her in serious trouble. Other times, it would be cities she’d visit and want to stay in forever. Most times, though, it was men. Beautiful, cocky (she always ignored the laugh in her head that sounded suspiciously like Justin‘s) asshole men.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Life On Pause

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to for beta-reading as usual. Even long distance she makes sure to take care of me. She’s the best! There’s loads of Daphne and the boys. Feedback much appreciated. <3

Daphne Chanders fell in love. All the time. Sometimes she would see the perfect silk top and couldn’t rest until she had it. Or shoes. They could get her in serious trouble. Other times, it would be cities she’d visit and want to stay in forever. Most times, though, it was men. Beautiful, cocky (she always ignored the laugh in her head that sounded suspiciously like Justin‘s) asshole men.

It was one her most endearing and…according to her almost best friend-in-law, the fabulous Brian Kinney…most frustrating traits. Daphne knew it wouldn’t have bothered him as much if she had one iota of good taste. It was unfortunate that she didn’t. Her boyfriends (and she still laughs at the look on Brian’s face when that word falls from his lips) were for shit. Brian knew this. Daphne knew this. Hell, the world knew this.

The worst part of it, in truth, was that Daphne always ended up broken-hearted, crying on the phone with Justin (ages ago, when things had been different)… or, as it happened in recent times, sitting on the floor in Brian’s living room, taking shots of some unbelievably expensive liquor (that probably cost more than she made in two months), while Brian and whichever of the boys were available commiserated with her about her lack of boyfriend-picking skills.

It had been during one of those too frequent times that Brian had suggested she pace herself and perhaps take the time to find someone she could have a long-lasting relationship with. There had been a shocked silence in which she and Emmett had processed that _that_ bit of wisdom had spewed forth from the Great God Kinney.

“Or you could fuck every cock available until your twat falls off. Whatever works best.”

Emmett had fallen on the floor laughing. It was good to know that Brian hadn’t changed _that_ much.

That incredibly astute observation had been made only a few months earlier, and Daphne found that she wanted to go back to that moment and pay heed to what Brian had been trying to tell her.

“Too fucking late,” Daphne muttered, her eyes staring out of the cab window as it rolled to a stop in front of a red brick, three floor walk-up in Soho. She glanced at the paper in her hand, Brian’s messy handwriting reading _815 Franklin Street_ , and, satisfied she had arrived at the correct place, got out of the cab. Paying quickly, she thanked her driver and hauled her carry-on bag onto her shoulder, stepping onto the sidewalk.

Daphne studied the tree-lined, obviously wealthy neighborhood, and for just a moment allowed a small bit of pride to seep through all the other emotions threatening to escape. Justin had done well. Really well. Her eyes came back to the building that now towered above her and, taking a deep breath, slowly ascended the stairs.

Her hand shook as she pressed the doorbell, waiting for some response and wondering how the hell Brian had managed to talk her into this…

 _“Fuck.”_

 _“Yeah, thank you, Bri. That’s helpful.”_

 _Brian’s hand ran through his hair for what Daphne counted as the twelfth time in less than two minutes. “Well, Daph, I’m not about to tell you this was a brilliant move on your end.” His voice softened when tears filled her eyes and he sat on the couch next to her, pulling her into a side hug. “That wasn’t fair. I get you’re scared.”_

 _“Scared.” Daphne made a derisive noise, wiping away the wet streaks that had fallen down her cheeks. “I think terrified is more the word.” Her head fell into her hands. “What the fuck do I do now, Brian?”_

 _“I have no idea.”_

 _“Great.”_

 _Brian sighed, rubbing a hand down her back in comfort. “You need to talk to someone, Daphne.”_

 _“I’m talking to you.”_

 _“Ah-yeah. No. Someone who has the capacity to deal with this, because you know damn well I can’t help you. I will support you. No problem. If you need something done, I will make sure it’s done. I might even be able to - god help me - listen. But I can’t talk you through this. I can’t sit here and make plans and be sensitive and just…no. I haven’t completely turned into a goddamn lesbian.”_

 _Daphne let out a soft laugh, despite the tumultuous emotion wreaking havoc inside her. She glanced at him sideways as she spoke. “I think you’d make a pretty hot muncher.”_

 _“Fuck you, Chanders.”_

 _They fell into silence, both absorbing what was happening and needing time to process it. Daphne sensed the moment Brian had an idea - probably a brilliant one knowing the bastard - and, at his prolonged silence, knew instinctively what he was going to say. So when the name found his lips, she half-smiled, because that was still where Brian found comfort._

 _“Justin.”_

 _She started to shake her head, but his hand on her shoulder made her stop and glance up. The look he gave her was classic Kinney intimidation and she almost laughed at him. “It’s not going to work, Brian. I can’t call him.”_

 _“Why not?”_

 _“Because we haven’t really talked in years. Mostly bullshit chit-chat.”_

 _“This is the icebreaker you need.”_

 _“I don’t need an icebreaker, Brian. I have no desire to speak with Justin about certain things.”_

 _“Please.” Brian rolled his eyes, arms crossing, and stared at her intensely._

 _Daphne blinked at him. “Brian.”_

 _“Stop being so pissed off at him.”_

 _“I’m not -”_

 _“Like hell you aren’t! He didn’t leave you, Daphne.” She could hear the silent ‘He left me’ that went unspoken and touched his hand gently._

 _Brian’s voice was filled with something raw when he spoke again._

 _“He only did what he had to do to survive. You know that.”_

 _Daphne did know that. She understood that Justin had gone into self-preservation mode and his distance was more about him than it was about the ones he loved. But it still didn’t make it right, and nothing anyone said, not even herself, would make it hurt any less._

 _“I’m not saying he shouldn’t have dealt with it differently. He should have. Not that I should be talking about how to fucking deal. But, the point is, he didn’t. We can’t hold it against him forever. And he has been trying, hasn’t he?”_

 _He had been trying. Daphne had received more messages from Justin in the last two months than she had in the last two years. She glanced at Brian, the suspicion that his recent trip to New York had something to do with Justin’s reemergence in their lives solidifying. Sighing, she shrugged as an answer._

 _Brian nodded. “You need to talk to him. Go see him.”_

 _“You’re just trying to get us back together so that you don‘t have to deal with my dramatics. I know your mind, Kinney.”_

 _Brian grinned. “Damn right.” He sobered up and said quietly, “You need your best friend, Daphne.”_

 _“You’re my best friend, too.”_

 _He scowled her way, not quite hiding the light in his eyes when he did. “Nice try. You need Justin.”_

She very much did.

After much debate, where they ultimately always ended up in an argument, Brian had simply bought her a first class ticket, driven her to the airport and, hugging her hard, he’d reminded her that Justin was enough of a smartass to keep up with her and had enough estrogen to talk her through this.

 _“Is that why you love him so? Smartass? Estrogen?”_

 _“Who the fuck said I loved him?” Brian had given her his patented one eyebrow indifference stare before saying, “I put **up** with him because he gives one hell of a fucking blowjob.”_

She reassured Brian he had no need to worry he was becoming a dyke.

And now here she was. Popping in on her “best friend” without any warning and throwing his life into disarray - oh fuck that. It was what he got for abandoning her. Angry now, she rang the bell, holding the button longer than necessary before letting go.

The buzz of the intercom made her jump and she heard a familiar voice say, “About fucking time, Hannah. I was running out of brown.“ Daphne was about to speak when the door seemed to vibrate slightly and she realized she was being let in. Pushing against it, she adjusted her bag and entered, stopping dead once inside.

She stood in the foyer, staring in awe at the painting that hung opposite the entryway. A canvas of brown and gold, specks of green accenting the hard strokes of black. What caught her attention was the swirl of yellow and blue tendrils that blending into the other colors.

“Oh wow.”

Tears formed and she brushed them away, her steps less angry now that she had seen what Justin wanted. What he obviously needed. What he seemed to be denying himself. She wasn’t sure why she climbed the stairs all the way to the top. Some instinct telling her that would be where, logically, Justin would put his studio. The door stood partially open, probably left that way by the grand artiste himself.

She dropped her bag by the door, catching sight of Justin in front of his newest bit of genius. He swayed to the music of his art, his inspiration, and it unnerved her to sense his surrender to the piece being created. It was what she had envied the most about him. His ability to turn nothing - a blank square of fabric - into something beautiful, meaningful.

Her gaze scanned the other canvases that lined the wall, all done in shades of gold and brown…swirls of red and blue…yellow and green. They were telling a story, that much was clear. Daphne wasn’t sure exactly what that was. But she knew that it was about Brian. Justin’s art was always about Brian. Just as she knew that Brian’s silences were always about Justin.

She cleared her throat. “Can’t you ever paint about someone else?”

Justin jumped at her voice, spinning around with wide blue eyes. His shocked expression breaking into a wide grin at confirming it was her. Before Daphne knew what was happening, Justin had run across the expanse of his loft, crushing her in a hug. She smothered a squeal when she was lifted off her feet.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

Daphne mumbled into his shoulder. “Oh, you know, I was in the neighborhood.”

Justin chuckled, pulling away from her. “Well, yeah. Of course. It’s only about five fucking hours and several hundred miles between here and the Pitts.”

Daphne shrugged. “Less than two hours on a plane. In first class, it goes by like that.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

“Aha. Are you a Kinney gift, then?”

Daphne laughed softly. “You could say that.”

He squeezed her tightly again. “I missed you, Daph.” He pulled back to look at her.

Staring into his soft blue eyes, she forgot her anger and felt the tears start. “Me, too.”

 

 

“What did your parents say?”

Daphne stiffened, refusing to think of that argument. “They weren’t happy, to say the least. They said it was my mistake, and they wouldn’t support me if I didn‘t fix it.”

Justin ran a hand through his hair. “That doesn’t surprise me. What about your boyfriend?”

“Not a part of my life anymore.”

“Does he know?”

“Of course he knows.”

“And he just left?”

Daphne took a sip of the tea Justin had made them both shortly after she’d dropped the news. “It’s what he does best, Justin.” She cringed when he jumped up from his seat.

“Who is it?” Justin paced the floor in front of her, hands balled into fists. “What’s his name?”

“Oh my god.” Daphne gently placed her tea on the table, shaking her head. “Not you, too.”

“What?” Justin stared at her.

“That was exactly what Brian said when I told him. He, and I quote, ‘was going to gather up a fucking posse and kick some fucking hetero ass,’ so please just take it easy.”

“Take it easy?”

Daphne nodded. “Yes. Take it easy. I’m pregnant. I don’t have some incurable disease.” She patted the seat next to her. “Don’t worry about who it was.“

“He left you! With…child!”

“Oh, Jesus. You really are a fucking queen. It’ll be okay, Jus.”

He sat on the spot she had indicated and glanced at her. “So, you’re…going to…”

“Keep it.” Daphne surprised herself at the response. She’d known that, unconsciously had made her decision when she’d first found out, but talking with Justin had solidified it. Goddamn Brian. He was always right. “I want the baby. It’s my baby.”

“Are you sure about this, Daph? It’s not going to be a fucking walk in the park.”

“It might be, if we’re talking Central Park.”

He placed an arm around her shoulder, bringing her in closer. “I’m serious, Daph. What are you going to do about school?”

“I can put school off for a year. After the baby is born, I’ll go back. I’m sure Brian’s already making arrangements so that I can afford it, even though-”

“Even though you told him not to. Yeah. That’s Brian for you.” She felt Justin’s smile in her hair and bit back her own.

“Yeah, it is. He’s…something.” She smiled up at him. “If I’ve got him in my corner, then I’m good.

Justin smiled sadly. “Yes, you are.” He squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve got both of us, okay?”

It was like the years they’d spent apart had never been, and she found, in the man next to her, the boy she had grown up with.

“Thank you.”

 

 

“What are you naming the baby?” Hannah asked, through a mouthful of white rice and garlic chicken.

“Don’t say ‘Staci’ with an ‘i,’ because I’m going have to ask you to leave,” Justin replied, pointing at her with his chopsticks.

“Please,” Daphne sneered at him, insulted. “Contrary to popular belief, I have better taste than that.”

“Oh, I know. Donna!” Ron exclaimed, then immediately changed his mind. “Gloria! No, no, Gladys! Diana!”

“She’s not having a fucking disco queen, Ron!”

Daphne laughed softly, reminded of her “adopted” family of sorts and the constant yet loving bickering. She watched Justin interact with his two friends and felt the tiniest bit of jealousy run through her. It was the way it would always be. A part of her would think of him as hers. But she liked Hannah and Ron. They seemed sweet and funny. She was glad Justin had found something to replace what she knew, without a doubt, he was missing. The boys, Debbie, his mom and Molly, herself…Brian.

There had been no mention of Paul since her arrival, and having been his best friend for almost two decades (sans the last two years), she knew there wouldn’t be. Not right now. Maybe as they talked more, and she knew they would, he’d open up and let her in. She thought of Brian and his assurances about Justin and chuckled. He was impossible when he was right.

“What’s so funny?” Justin asked with a smile.

Daphne saw they were all staring at her curiously and she shook her head. “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking I hate it when Brian gets to be all smug and know-it-all.”

Justin smirked. “That’s the way he always is.”

“Very true.”

“Is that why you’re so crazy about him, Justin?” Hannah asked, slyly.

Justin raised an eyebrow. “Did I say that? I only tolerated Brian because he gives one hell of a -” Justin cut off at Daphne’s choked laughter, staring at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” she croaked out, waving in his direction as she tried to regain her composure. “You two are fucking made for each other.” Justin’s face crumpled slightly and he returned to his food, ignoring her statement while changing the subject.

Yeah, she thought as she rolled her eyes, made for each other.

 

 

Some time later, they were gathered in Justin’s living room, bottle of wine - and water for Daphne - on the table, each recounting embarrassing stories about Justin, when Hannah asked a question Daphne could tell she had been dying to.

“Daphne, is Brian as good-looking as Justin sketches him or is it just his artistic liberties?”

“Haven’t you seen a picture of him?”

“No.” Ron answered. “Justin doesn’t have any.”

Her confused gaze fell to Justin, jaw tense and eyes avoiding hers. It took a full minute to truly understand what that meant. How far Justin had to go to be able to function without Brian. If he couldn’t see him, it wouldn’t hurt. Daphne closed her eyes for a moment. They could be so alike it was scary.

“Oh!” Her eyes flew open and she ran to her carry-on, remembering the package Molly had given her. “Wait, I think I have something.” She rummaged inside until she found it, walking back and handing it to Justin. “Open it, but read the letter later. I think she sent some pictures for you.”

Hannah and Ron scrambled to the empty space on the other side of Justin, and Daphne perched on the arm of the couch. They all watched Justin slowly open the flap of the photo album and gasp at the first picture. It contained a beautiful, grinning red-head, arms thrown around the neck of who, Daphne knew, was the most gorgeous man any of them had seen. She pointed at the picture, indicating the two people. “That’s Molly, Justin’s little sister, and…that’s Brian.”

Ron snatched the picture from under the plastic, ignoring Justin‘s death glare, mouth gaping open. He tilted it so Hannah could get a better look, and they both stuttered.

“Wow. I mean…wow. You‘re an artistic god, Justin, but…you did him no justice.”

“He’s fucking beautiful.”

Daphne smiled. “Yes, he is.” She watched as Justin flipped through the pages of the album, pausing at any picture with Brian. His eyes were glassy as he made his way through their latest family event.

“Was this recent?”

“Yeah. It was Blake’s birthday, and we threw a little party at Deb’s.” He seemed to go more quickly now, and she imagined it was hard to see life go on without you. She could understand that, no matter how much she wanted to point out that it had been his own choice, so she let him proceed any way he wanted.

Then it happened.

She hadn’t even thought of it. He was such a part of their circle, their lives, that it had never occurred to her that he would stand out to Justin. She was sure he had passed several group shots and not said a word. But this one was different.

Justin had stopped, staring at the picture of Brian with Jen on one side and on the other, what she now realized was for him, a handsome but complete stranger. His hand was around Brian’s waist, and they had been caught in the middle of some joke, their faces grinning. To her, it was a lovely image…to see Brian smile. He rarely did so. But, as she glanced at Justin, she knew it meant something completely different to him.

There was a tremble in Justin’s voice when he asked, “Who is that?”

Hannah and Ron leaned over to take a look. Daphne cleared her throat. “That’s Greg. Greg Black. He’s a good friend of Carl and Ben…well, actually he’s a good friend of everyone now, but we met him through Carl and Ben.” Her eyes studied Justin’s grim face, his jaw stiff and eyes hard. “Um…he’s one of Brian’s newest clients. He’s trying to run for Chief of Police.”

Justin’s eyes widened slightly. “He’s a cop?”

Daphne nodded. “Yes. He’s one of the good ones.”

Hannah shook her head. “Wait. Running for Chief of Police? I thought that someone just got appointed to that position. I mean, like an employee or something.”

“In some states, they can appoint _and_ elect a Chief of Police. Pittsburgh’s state council passed a law a few years ago that any new Chief of Police was to be elected by the citizens. We had a problem with a former officer in that position.”

Justin snorted. “That’s a fucking understatement.” He continued to stare at the picture. “So, Greg’s…”

“Gay? Yeah.” Daphne bit back a grin. “That’s why he went to Brian for help with his campaign.”

Justin raised an eyebrow. “I see.”

“He needed someone who understood what the obstacles would be and who had done it before.”

He flipped the page quickly and, when he caught a glimpse of the one that followed, his hands tightened on the book. Daphne’s almost smile fell at that look on Greg’s face. He had been caught staring at an oblivious Brian with such adoration it made Daphne’s stomach clench. That wasn’t good. Why the hell had Molly put that picture into the album?

Justin placed the album on the table and got up from the couch, reaching for a cigarette from his pocket. “I’ll be back.” His steps were heavy in the silence, and the other three jumped at the sound of the slamming door that followed his exit.

She glanced around at Ron and Hannah. “Well, shit.”

 

 

“About fucking time.”

Daphne chuckled. “Hello to you, too.”

“What the hell took you so long?”

“I’m sorry, _Mother_. Were you worried?” She glanced out of the glass doors that separated her from Justin. He’d been out on the balcony for an hour, brooding about what she could only guess had never occurred to him before.

“No. It would have just been polite to call and at least leave a message. You know, something like, ‘Hey Brian. My plane didn’t crash, I haven’t been mugged…I’m alive and well and have reached my destination.’ It’s just good manners is all.”

Daphne snorted. “I’m sorry, I forgot I was talking to Mr. Propriety.”

“I’m fucking Miss Manners compared to you.” Brian paused for a beat, then asked, “How’s the princess doing?”

“He’s having a moment.”

She heard the concern in his voice when he spoke again. “What happened?”

Daphne ran one hand through her curly hair. “Molly sent him some pictures.”

“O-kay. Were they evil, killer pictures?”

“They were pictures of the last party we had.” Daphne wasn’t sure if she should go into details. Greg’s feelings for Brian weren’t a secret, but it was one of those elephants in the room no one spoke of. She knew Brian _had_ to know but chose to ignore it. It wasn’t her place to bring it up, especially now, but she made a mental note to visit Miss Molly when she got back to the Pitts and interrogate the little minx on what the hell had possessed her to add that picture to the album.

Daphne had a pretty damn good idea what her answer would be, and if she was right, then she couldn’t blame the kid.

“Daphne?”

“Yeah, sorry. I think he just felt…left out.”

“Left out?”

“Brian, it’s one thing to leave and know that the people you love will move on without you, share their lives without you…and something entirely different to _see_ it.

“Oh.” Brian cleared his throat. “Can I talk to him?”

“What exactly are you going to say? Are you going to ask him to come home? To forget all this bullshit? Tell him you love him and need him? ‘Cause unless that‘s what you‘re about to do, it‘s not such a good idea. It‘ll only hurt more.”

“You know I can’t - I won’t do that to him, Daph. He needs to build his life. To choose his own path.” Brian’s voice was flat, the words automatic, never from the heart. Never what he truly felt, but what he believed Justin needed.

“How the fuck you two have survived so far is beyond me!” She knew her hormones were at work, but _goddamn it!_ She was tired of Brian’s sadness. He was better now than when… but it was still there. And, looking at Justin, she knew, just _fucking knew_ that he wasn’t where he needed to be.

Sighing, she ran one hand over her face. “I’m sorry.”

“If I thought… He has a life, Daphne. I can’t ask him to give that up.”

“So, you give up yours instead?” Brian’s silence was her answer, and she wanted to cry at the depth of despair she sensed in him at that moment. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you, Brian Kinney, that you don‘t know how to fucking love someone.” The door opened behind her, and she glanced at Justin as he entered. He smiled woodenly her way, disappearing down a long hallway, but she knew he would be back soon. “I think the princess is ready to talk. I’ve got to go.”

“Tell him --”

Daphne waited, knowing what Brian wanted to say and also knowing he wouldn’t. “I’ll tell him you said hello.”

“Right.”

“Hey, Brian?”

“What?” There it was. That crack in the controlled voice that could undo her…or anyone who knew Brian well enough.

“I love you, my friend.”

One beat.

“Of course, that’s ‘cause I’m your fag hag. It‘s part of the job.” His laugh made her smile, and she heard his breath come out slowly. She knew he hated when she did that.

“Best fucking fag hag I ever had.”

“Only fucking fag hag you‘ve ever had.”

“Shut up, Daph. Take the princess out to sightsee. Don’t let him get too…him.”

“You got it.”

“Oh, and Daph? Thanks.”

Then a click and the call ended, the blaring quiet of nothing in her ear.

Justin reentered the room, eyes trying to hide hope and longing. “How is he?”

“He’s Brian.”

Justin nodded. “Always.”

She gestured to the phone. “He said hey.” She caught the rueful smile and quick shake of his head. And in his eyes, flickering by in a heartbeat, there was regret. It was the straw that broke the self-proclaimed fag hag’s back. “How long is this going to go on, Jus?”

Trained blank stare of blue was aimed her way, and the anger she’d thought had dissipated burst in a red-colored rage.

“Don’t fucking insult me by pretending you have no clue what I’m talking about!”

“Don’t yell at me, Daphne.”

“Don’t yell? Don’t yell!! You’re lucky I don’t rip your balls off, you little shit!” She caught movement from her peripheral and knew that Hannah and Ron had retreated to safety. It was all the better. She was in the mood to take away essential body parts, apparently. “You left me. You left us. The family…your mom and Molly…Brian. Barely half a dozen calls in two years? What the hell did you think was going to happen? Did you think we’d just hit the pause button?”

Justin’s head fell, eyes hiding from her assault, muttering quietly, “No.” Then, at her angry glare he added, “Maybe a little.”

Daphne threw her hands in the air. “Then you’re a goddamn moron.” Her eyes followed his path from the center of the room, to stare at the wall, to the ceiling windows. “It doesn’t work like that, Justin. We had lives to live, too.”

“I know that.”

Her eyes stared a hole into his back, arms folding across her chest, and through clenched teeth she threw a jab she knew would hurt. “He’s different, you know. You made him different.” He was alert now and she continued. “You made him a better man, Justin. Made him change, and when you left, when you really left us…he couldn’t change back.”

“He tried…?”

“Of course he tried. He’s Brian. For a few weeks, he gave it his best shot. It would have been amusing if the whole thing hadn’t reeked of heartache and desperation. Then, I don’t know, it was like something shifted and it was different. Maybe he figured he had to make it worth letting…whatever it was. He was still him. Still an asshole to the world. But to us…he was something more.”

Justin nodded, his back to her still. “He opened up.”

Daphne shrugged. “As much as he could, I guess. Mostly, he became a part of our lives and we became a part of his. Don’t get me wrong, he still has the habit of saying the right thing at the wrong time and so forth. But…it’s different. It’s done with…”

“Love.”

“Yeah. And it was you that made it possible.” Knowing he wasn’t going to leave his position, she took a seat on the nearest chair and stared at the marble floor. “Someone was bound to notice him.” She sensed him stiffen behind her but didn’t glance his way. “He’s beautiful, Justin. Inside and out. It was only a matter of time. It‘s not fair that you get to have somebody and he doesn‘t.”

“And this Greg noticed?”

Daphne snorted. “From day number one.” Her fingers played with each other, the tick an old habit she’d tried to get rid of. “You want to know the worst part?”

“Not really.”

She ignored him. “Brian doesn’t look at him. Not even for a minute.”

“Not even in his patented Kinney way?”

“Nope. Greg is a friend. Period.” Daphne stood then, joining Justin, staring at the visible skyline as she continued. “He’s still in love with you. And I know you’re still in love with him, if the irrational jealousy over a stupid picture is to be believed.”

He rubbed his eyes with one hand. “I don’t know what the fuck to do.”

“Then you’re not ready,” Daphne said, sagely. “When you are, you’ll know. It won’t even require thinking about.” She wrapped one arm around his and leaned her head on his shoulder. “The thing is, Jus, that all this has been in vain, hasn’t it? Yeah, you got your career and that’s worth a lot. And you have lovely friends...and Paul.” There was a grimace across his face then. “Whatever that may be. But...you’re not happy.”

“I’m content.”

“That’s not good enough and you know it. You’ve tasted fucking bliss, Justin. You shouldn’t settle.”

“Daph...”

“I know, your life, shut the fuck up and stay the hell out of it.”

Justin eyed her, lips quirking in a soft smile. “Brian has trained you well.”

She made a noise that sounded very much like a snort. “He likes to think he has.”

“You still mad at me?” He gave her shoulder a playful shove and smiled when she stuck her tongue out at him.

“I am still very mad at you. But you’ll make it up to me with much food and dri--fuck! Well, much food will have to do.”

He kissed the side of her head as he leaned his against it. “I missed you, Daph.”

“Yeah, well. I’m here now. Tomorrow, we’ll go sightseeing and shopping...don’t you dare scoff...and you can interrogate me about things back there.” There was a quick punch to her shoulder and she smiled. ‘And, when you’re ready...” She pulled back, pinning his gaze with hers. “You’ll come home.”

His eyes grew soft, emotions swirling uncontrollably in their depths. “I still don’t know when that will be, Daph. If ever.”

“I know. It doesn’t matter. When you do we’ll be waiting.”

“Promise?”

Her soft response resounded in the loft. “Promise.”


End file.
